


Belladonna

by AbsinthexMind



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Attraction, Choices, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Marriage Proposal, Swordfighting, Swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-11-28 00:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20957762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsinthexMind/pseuds/AbsinthexMind
Summary: Instagram RequestWith the death of his father, Robert Baratheon found himself the young lord of Storm's End. A new lordship requires a wife.





	Belladonna

He was to wed. That’s what the Lord of the Eyrie had told Robert Baratheon one fine day. Like any other day, practicing his skills with a blade with Ned and without a care in the world until the wise lord had stepped in and taken Robert by the shoulder. With his father dead, Robert was the new lord of Storm’s End. The weight of such a title did little to scare Robert, it was the prospect that he was to find himself a lady to wed. Too soon he was being bombarded with all these new responsibilities and now he had to find a wife as well. Never one to be overwhelmed, he handled everything in stride. It helped that he had the wise Jon Arryn and calculating Ned Stark by his side to help him in his time of need. While Robert took control of Storm’s End and the stormlands, the other two went about collecting prospective brides for him. He trusted in their judgement. While the idea of getting married didn’t interest Robert one bit at least he liked the idea that the most eligible ladies in Westeros would be brought before him. Ned’s choice was his own sister, Lyanna. It would prove wise to have an even stronger bond with the North and the Stormlands. And why not the sister of his best friend? A nice idea, although Robert did wonder how the personality of Lyanna compared to that of her stoic faced brother. He didn’t want to marry a female Ned, as much as he loved him. From the Reach came Jon Arryn’s choice. (y/n) Florent. Those prideful Florents that loved to boast of old kings blood in their veins. And this young woman was the very pride of the Reach. Many knew of her name and even though Gardener Kings no longer ruled, she acted like a queen. The Reach did have more appeal to Winterfell. 

That is who he would visit and woo first. 

Before leaving, a raven from the Vale had arrived in Storm’s End. The letter from Jon made the big Baratheon lord laugh loudly. Supposedly, Jon cautioned Robert about (y/n), warning her that she had a hot temper and to tread lightly around her when in her presence for she was known as the Vixen for a reason. Behind closed doors it was known that there was another name for the young lady. One that did little flattery to her reputation. Belladonna. Such a lovely name that covered up the poisonous plant that it truly was. 

This did little to scare Robert. Women were simple creatures in their desires. Once he spoke to (y/n) he knew that she wouldn’t be as terrifying as Jon had made her out to be. The journey there was an enjoyable one for Robert as he had heard of the beauty that the Reach possessed. Endless fields of green, bursting with fruit as birds and bees alike flocked to them. He had never experienced such fine weather or hunting for the ands were also rich with wildlife. Beastly boars and noble stag alike took nourishment from the abundant land. 

A breath of fresh air made Robert feel so relaxed.That was until thundering hooves beating against the earth alert him and his entourage of someone charging toward them. 

Tightening his grip on the leather reins, Robert readies himself for a fight. The sight of a large destrier told him that there would be a fight ahead had it not been for the young maiden on top. Behind her were a couple of other bannermen, holding up the cloth banner that had the Florent fox upon it’s threads. Robert relaxes and motions his men to move forward. Compared to the destrier, Robert’s own horse looks like a pony. The lady on top seemed like but a speck atop of the black beast that was meant to be on a battlefield. Not carrying around a woman so nonchalantly. 

Sidling up to the maid, she smiles at him. “Lord Baratheon?” Her (e/c) eyes were smart and playful, easily handling the large beast beneath her. Part of her (h/c) hair was pulled back, exposing the signature prominent Florent ears that somehow suited her so well. Normally it would have been off putting to Robert but it added to the girl’s charm. 

He grins. “Yes, and who am I in the presence of?” 

“I think you know by now.” (y/n) flips her hair over her shoulder revealing the length of her lovely neck. “Come along Lord Baratheon. You and your company must be weary from your travels.” 

“It’s quite uncommon for a lady of your pedigree to come out all this way just to greet her guests.” He comments as he falls into place beside her. 

She commanded such authority that (y/n) didn’t even need to say anything to the knights following behind her to let them know that they were retreating. “I wanted to see first the man I might be marrying.” 

“Are you disappointed?” 

“That has yet to be determined.” She doesn’t look at him as they rode back, merely making polite conversation. “If you’re concerned looks wise though, I will admit that it’s a nice surprise. I was expecting someone older and fatter.” 

Even that little bit delighted Robert. The way she held herself with complete pride entranced him. Her purposeful coyness and smart mouth was like a game to him that he was all too ready to play, knowing that he would come out victorious. 

Not long into the ride did they finally arrive to Brightwater Keep. Robert could still hear the close by singing that came from the Honeywine River. He couldn’t believe that someone had been graced to live in such a heavenly place. 

(y/n) was happy to bring them into the gates, showing off her home. “Welcome, gentlemen, to Brightwater Keep. I expected all of you to act according to your titles and not cause trouble for my people.” She was able to easily leap off of her giant horse, wiping off any dirt from her trousers. 

Robert had always thought women looked best in dresses, or naked completely, but (y/n) changed that thought. Wearing trousers made her rear appear more shapely and full, something Robert couldn’t tear his attention from. 

Stewards and maids awaited them, helping Robert’s men with their luggage and taking them to where they would be sleeping. 

“Wash up and rest for a bit before supper.” (y/n) smiles gently at them. 

She turns to leave but Robert hastily follows after her. “I would like to greet your lord father. Thank him for hosting my men and I.” 

For the first time since meeting her, Robert sees her face fall. “Did Lord Arryn not tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” 

Pursing her lips, (y/n) takes Robert by the arm and leads him inside of the castle. “My father is dying. Most days he’s incapacitated in bed. He’s grown too tired to carry on any conversations. He’s saving his energy for tonight’s dinner.” 

Why hadn’t Jon told him? 

She smiles at his expression. “Don’t worry about not knowing. Hardly anyone does. He doesn’t want people treating him any differently. If you insist though, I’m sure my father won’t mind too badly.” 

"No, I don’t want to disturb his rest. He will be in attendance for dinner. I shall speak with him then.” 

Her smile returns. “Very well then. Lord Baratheon, your rooms will be up the staircase if you want my maid Marni to show you to them.” 

“Where will you be?” 

Smile growing, she puts her hands on her hips. “Sparring practice.” 

He raised an eyebrow at that. “Sparring? With a sword?” 

“That’s the best way.” 

Never had he witnessed a woman fighting with a weapon besides from their tongues. The idea of it was comical. “Well I just have to see this.” 

“If you insist.” (y/n) grins and show him to the open courtyard where Florent knights were already practicing. 

Completely at ease among the men, (y/n) heads over to the weapons rack. Swords of all types hung from the wooden racks as she pursued her options. 

“The Vixen has finally made her appearance.” One of the men points out and jogs toward her. “My lady, which have you chosen for today?” Not until he was close to her did he notice Robert standing off to the side. 

At his silence, (y/n) informs him “You best better behave today Errol. There is a lord in our audience today.” 

The young man known as Errol straightens himself up. “My lord.” 

“At ease. I’m just here to watch this lovely lady fight like a man.” 

That seemed to offend him as he sneered. “She fights better than any man. Keep the tone of disrespect out of your mouth, my lord.” 

“Errol, hush. Lord Baratheon meant no disrespect.” (y/n) picks up a sword by its handle. “This one shall do. If you ladies are done squawking, the show is about to begin.” 

Robert still couldn’t believe that this was happening. A woman was about to fight with a sword against a full grown man. A man that surely had spent his entire life perfecting his skill with a blade. How could this young lady dream of defeating a man twice her size. 

Still he gathered with the others and waited with anticipation, (y/n) walking out into the training yard with another young man. Robert grew anxious watching the two as they walked around one another. She wasn’t seriously going to go through with this. . . was she? 

“Don’t look so frightened.” Errol scoffed. “She knows what she’s doing. If you are to be her future husband you will have to accept this part of her life.” 

The boy’s voice told Robert leagues of how Errol truly felt about his Lady (y/n). 

“It just doesn’t seem likely that she could possibly defeat him.” Robert murmured. He inwardly flinched when the large man lunged to attack (y/n). 

Fast as lightning, (y/n) easily dodged his lunge; preparing for him to recoil and strike again. Devious and quick like a fox; Robert understood why she was called a vixen. She made that man look like an utter fool, especially when she finally decided to move to offensive attacks. Errol was right, (y/n) fought better than any man. It took Robert’s breath away as he watched with wide eyes, completely entranced as she kept her own against this seasoned knight. 

By the time it was all done, Robert’s cheeks were flushed; eyes trained on a sweaty (y/n). Victorious, she stabs the blade of her sword into the ground as the other knights and boys in training cheered for her. Their Vixen. Their Belladonna. 

Robert was hooked, more than he had been with any woman. “By the gods. . .” 

“If you are to choose her as your bride you better treat her right.” Errol warns him. “If not you’ll be answering to her fury.” 

There was no doubt in Errol’s words, Robert knew that well. Jon Arryn’s own voice echoed back in his head. Despite it all, Robert was certain that he wanted to marry (y/n). 

(y/n) saunters over to the two men, wiping down her face on a cloth rag. “Did you like the show Lord Baratheon?” 

“It was outstanding.” Robert admitted earnestly that it brought a blush to (y/n)’s already red face. 

Shyly, she brushes away a strand of (h/c) hair out of her face. “You flatter me.” Her eyes refuse to look upon Robert as she smiles to herself.  
  
  


The old Lord of Brightwater Keep graced everyone with his presence that night as guest and hostess sat down to feast upon the numerous delicacies that were presented before them. Indeed he looked sick, face pale and skin hanging off of him like an oversized coat. He still held himself with strength and pride; not wanting to let on how sick he truly was. Right away it was evident that the old lord dotted on his daughter, bragging how she was better than any son he could have ever had. Other men at the table agreed making (y/n) sit a little taller in her seat. All the while Robert kept thinking to himself how she would make a great Lady of Storm’s End. His men would adore her as much as those in the Reach. Envisioning the strong children that they would have together made him more certain that she was the one. 

Winterfell called to him though; he still needed to meet Lyanna Stark before making a proper decision. After three days spent with (y/n) Florent, Robert had to force himself to depart for the North. (y/n) tried to act uncaring, but Robert could tell that it bothered her to know that he was leaving to meet with another potential bride. He owed it to Ned though to at least meet Lyanna before voicing his decision. 

“Do what you must.” She shrugged, putting her sword back into its sheath after sharpening it. Eyes were distant as she finally glances up at him, her fingers go to playfully tug at his thick black beard. “Remember to keep warm. The north is cruel with its cold. Not quite like us here.” (y/n)’s fingers lingered in the thick curls as she reluctantly pulls back her hand. 

(y/n) didn’t show it, but she was hurt. In truth she had grown fond of Robert. He was handsome, strong, and funny; (y/n) had soon learned in the past couple of days spent with him. 

If (y/n) had been any other woman, Robert would have made quick work in taking her maidenhead. He hadn’t even kissed her yet. For once he wanted to wait. Wanted to savor the pursuit and make it sweet for the bedding. 

With a heavy chest, Robert and his men left for the north. 

It was an arduous journey that caused Robert’s ass to get sore and he was prone to moodiness the entire way there. Like (y/n) had told him, the weather did nothing to mend his mood. Plenty of thanks went to his beard for that was what truly kept him warm. Each stop made was drearier than the last, the entire time Robert just wished he was back in the sunny fields of the Reach with (y/n). 

The sight of Winterfell’s large stone fortress was enough to make Robert cry in relief. Even though Ned wouldn’t be there he was still overjoyed at the prospect of his long journey was over. Now he could rest and enjoy the warmth the Starks had to offer. 

Turned out Ned really did take after his father in terms of solemn face and business-like personality. Many others in Winterfell seemed to follow that as well. Sallow faces everywhere, it was a complete change from Brightwater Keep. 

All the members of House Stark had come out to welcome him. 

Rickard Stark, patriarch and Warden of the North, mustered up a grim sort of smile. “Lord Baratheon, welcome to the north. We were sorry to hear about your father’s death.” 

“My brother says that you are to take Lyanna as a bride.” Brandon sizes up the young lord, gray eyes unforgiving. 

“If we agree with each other.” Robert offers with a smile, attempting to thaw their icy hearts. It did little to bring warmth to their faces. 

Brandon glances at who Robert could only guess was Lyanna. His dark blue eyes travel to her. Large, gray eyes meet his gaze head on. Long lashes flutter as she too examines this man who might be her husband. She was a beauty, that was fact, but Robert suddenly found it hard to be attracted to her. All he could think about was (y/n)’s warm smile and cocky attitude. Soon enough he realized that his heart had chosen long ago. As lovely as Lyanna was, Robert’s heart begged him to return to his Florent lady.  
*  
  


What were they doing together? 

Ever since Robert had left you had been agitated and unable to relax. Nothing seemed to give you comfort. All you could think about was Robert falling in love with Lyanna Stark. What would you do if he ended up choosing the northern girl? Surely you would feel slighted, embarrassed even. You knew though you would feel pain above all things. He had spent such a small amount of time with you yet you couldn’t deny the feelings that had sprung up. 

He hadn’t even so much as held your hand let alone kiss you. According to what Errol and the other knights knew, Robert Baratheon was an infamous womanizer; possibly already having given numerous women his bastard. Were you not attractive enough to him? Perhaps your attitude turned him off. 

“Good riddance to him then.” Errol told you. “Just forget about him.” 

Easier said than done. You wished you could just forget the memorable days spent with him. The peaceful evenings the two of you spent in the meadow as you weaved small flowers into his beard, laughing at him and dubbing him the Lord of Flowers. How Robert would teasingly whistle at you when you were sparring. 

The training ground didn’t have it’s usual flare as you lean against one of the wooden posts. Your vigor to fight was dim. It’s like when Robert left he took your fight with him. Not wanting to even admit it to yourself, you shoved down that feeling with resentment. 

Pausing, Errol licks his lips. “You know, if you’re so eager to marry someone I can talk to your father. . .” 

As close as you were to him, you had never felt any romantic inclinations towards Errol. “That’s very sweet of you, but that’s not necessary. I’m sure my father is already making up a list of more eligible lords for me to take as a husband.” Fingers fiddling with the pommel of your sword, you stare at the ground. True what you said, you knew you wouldn’t have to worry about never being married off. Your father would find you someone, just not Robert. 

“Pick up your sword Errol. Lets dance.” 

A little frightened at your tone of voice, Errol never the less draws his sword. “Ready when you are, my Lady Vixen.” 

“Belladonna rolls off the tongue more, don’t you think?” 

Robert. 

Not quite believing it, your sword hand slackens. Eyes wide you could only stare at him in disbelief. 

He grins, eyes sparkling. “It would be a great honor if I fought against you in a spar, Belladonna.” 

Beside you, you noticed Errol bristle. All you could do was return Lord Baratheon’s grin. “Of course. You would be doing me the honor. I hear you’re an excellent fighter.” 

Robert leapt into the ring, shouldering Errol out of the way. You already knew that Robert preferred to fight with a warhammer. This would be the first time you would fight against such a formidable weapon. Excited, you lift your sword back up and prepared for your dance. 

When weapon clashed against weapon, you felt your blood sing in your veins; heart pounding frantically with excitement. Every nerve in your body was exploding each measured step you took. Arm and blade becoming one with each block, cheeks ablaze as you drew closer to Robert. This was the most sensation you had ever felt while fighting. This was the kind of fight you had always wanted. Only Robert could have ever offered you such an outstanding battle. 

By the end of it, both of you were heavily sweating and panting; neither of you having won. Instead you called it a draw. 

“You are an amazing woman.” 

You laugh. “Don’t you forget it.” 

Mesmerized, Robert drops his hammer and gets to one knee. “Marry me (y/n).” 

Laughter was stuck in your throat. “Ha. . . was it that horrible in the north?” 

“Yes. I just kept thinking about you the entire time.” You tried to find any hint that his words were lies, but there was none. Naked honesty and adoration shined in those deep pools of blue. 

“Y. . . You didn’t kiss me. At all. And here I thought you were this infamous lady’s man.” 

His response came so easily.”I wanted to wait to savor you, for you are a delicacy that should be enjoyed with time and not eaten so hastily.” Robert’s hand gingerly holds onto your’s. Your hand seemingly disappeared in his large paw. “I’m a man who doesn’t like to repeat my words, but I’ll gladly do it for you. Marry me, (y/n) Florent. Belladonna of the Reach and Lady Vixen of Brightwater Keep.” 

Lips turning up in a grin, you accept his proposal.


End file.
